


Fearless is a Choice

by buzzbuzz34



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Eye Trauma, F/F, Free Will, Killing, Knives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buzzbuzz34/pseuds/buzzbuzz34
Summary: Georgie's family serves the End, and Melanie's serves the Slaughter.  When an alliance is sought between the two Entities, an arranged marriage is called for between these two worshipers.  However, as time goes on, their allegiance to their Fears wanes and, together, Melanie and Georgie are forced to navigate a world at odds with their families and Entities, side by side with someone they barely know, bound together by circumstance and the choices they make.
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Melanie King
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12
Collections: Rusty Quill Secret Santa 2019





	1. A Unique Bond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Prim_the_Amazing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/gifts).



It had been a beautiful ceremony, in its own way. As the brides walked down the aisle, meeting each other’s eyes for the first time in years and the first time since this arrangement had been made by their families, an orchestra played a haunting tune that combined the pipe song and funeral dirge heard by the two halves of the attendees. The Slaughter and the End had always been acquainted, but never firmly aligned, and this, a wedding of two of their disciples, was the first step in bridging that gap.

The brides were all dressed in white, but, of course, that didn’t last long. Other couples might exchange rings, but in this world, their ties were drawn in blood. They slit open their palms and pressed their wound to their wife’s to allow the red liquid to mix and pool together, drops spilling onto the pure white of their gowns. 

And a wedding is always an excuse for a party, even if it is among the worshippers of fear gods. In addition to the cake, another exceptional gift was presented during the following proceedings: a man, bound and gagged, eyes filled with fear. The brides were each offered a knife and allowed to dispatch him as they saw fit; the Slaughter’s delegate proved more vicious and effective in ceasing the man’s miserable life, his last moments serving as combined praise for the Entities of violence and death. 

Their gowns soaked in fresh blood, the festivities commenced. It was peculiar for each of the newlyweds to hold a near stranger in their arms as they twirled across the dance floor and met family members, both near and distant, but it was hardly uncomfortable. 

As the party died down and each individual headed on their way, the brides found themselves in a small townhouse that had been gifted them, where they were meant to start their new life together, in service of their families and the Gods to which they devoted themselves. 

They’d changed from their wedding clothes and into more comfortable outfits, unsure of how to address each other. They were married, yes, but it had all been planned out by their families and they’d had no say in the matter. 

But as Georgie gasped and the bandage around her slit palm unraveled, Melanie was at her side in an instant. 

“Allow me,” she said. She led Georgie to the couch and pulled her hand close so that she could apply salve and a fresh bandage. 

“Thank you,” Georgie replied, a sincere smile on her lips. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem. That’s what your wife is for, right?”

They both chuckled awkwardly, only barely catching the other’s gaze for a moment before looking away again. 

“You know,” Melanie thought aloud as she finished fastening Georgie’s bandage, “I was afraid when they said I’d be part of an arranged marriage to align our families. But at least they picked out someone I’ve met before, someone nice.”

“It has been a while, hasn’t it? We ran into each other at that haunted hospital, what was it, three years ago?”

“Almost four, I think.”

“That long?” Georgie couldn’t help but shake her head and laugh at that. “Who would’ve guessed we’d be here now? We were just a couple of foolish, young ghosthunters then, fighting over the best haunted spots.”

“You’re still making your podcast, right?”

Georgie nodded. “I’ve never been comfortable with the more hands-on methods that some of my family and the other Avatars take. But if I can tell people about ghosts, about what happens after, or doesn’t? It spreads fear of death in its own way. Humanity will always fear the End, we don’t really have to do much to keep that terror alive. So, it’s mostly about the ghosts and the history for me, but it keeps my family happy.”

“Interesting. I’ll admit I haven’t kept up with your show super diligently, but I always enjoyed it.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“It’s true, though,” Melanie insisted. At this point, they became acutely aware that she still held to Georgie’s hand, even though her medic work was done, and they pulled apart hastily. 

To break the awkwardness, Georgie asked, “What about you, though? _Ghost Hunt UK_ was doing really well for a while, but then you… kind of disappeared?”

“Well, I… sort of let my nature take over one time when I was ‘escorted’ from a private trainyard. Nobody got seriously hurt, but my reputation was ruined,” she explained. “I still keep up with tracking down ghosts and the supernatural, though it’s just for me now. It’s smart to keep tabs on everything when you know that the things that go bump in the night are real. But now, I’m… part of a band?”

“Mm?” Georgie murmured, intrigued. “There’s nothing hotter than a musician, you know that.”

They both giggled and Melanie blushed, looking at her lap so that she didn’t have to see that look in Georgie’s eye. 

“I would invite you to a show, but I don’t want to do that to you. Surely you’ve heard of Grifter’s Bone?”

“Isn’t that the band that makes people kill each other with terrible music?”

“It’s not _terrible_ ,” Melanie replied firmly. “You just have to be of the right disposition for it to not drive you mad and murderous. I went to investigate a showing, everyone around me started hurting each other, I was the only one left unhurt and alive, so they offered me a spot in their group.”

“What did the music sound like to you?”

Melanie shrugged. “Same as the pipes I hear most of the time.” 

They were silent for a few moments, before Melanie added, “I’m sorry, I hope that doesn’t frighten you.”

At this, Georgie laughed, a pure, belly laugh. 

“What is it?”

“It’s just… I don’t feel fear.”

“Is that… is that an End thing or a you thing?”

“It’s a me thing.”

“You’re even more unique than I thought,” Melanie teased with a smirk. “I really did win out here.”

“You don’t have to flatter me, we’re already married,” Georgie joked.

She shrugged, still smiling. 

“In my family, all of us who were marked to be proper devotees have seen Death,” Georgie explained. “And not death as in, seeing someone die, though that’s certainly part of it, but Death, with a capitol D. I thought he was my imaginary friend, a sort of guardian angel. My parents found me speaking with him one time, and they knew I’d been chosen, so they took me aside and explained everything to me. The Gods, the Fear, all of that.”

“When did the lack of fear thing come about?”

“University. One of the cadavers from lab – I was going to say ‘came back to life,’ but it wasn’t alive, per se. It took my friend. But, since then, I’ve never felt fear. Never was afraid of Death, though, either, even though he is remarkedly creepy looking. He still shows up sometimes, but he’s kept quite busy.”

“Huh,” Melanie remarked, the only response she could think to make for that story with all its twists and turns. “My family is… less subtle than that.”

“I believe that,” Georgie laughed, and Melanie chuckled too.

“A lot of us throughout the ages have been soldiers, either officially in the army or in revolutions and all that. But the thing that really sets us apart is more personal than that. Everybody has grief with their parents. The ones of us who are marked by the Slaughter, we just happen to take a more final approach to our parental disagreements.”

“You kill your parents? Doesn’t that make it hard to have a family of worshippers like we do?”

“I mean, not all of them _die_ ,” Melanie said as if that answered everything. “It’s about the savagery. Some people get mad at their parents and cut them out of their lives, or just move on and keep an amicable distance there. Others of us… well, they are _cut_ , but nothing about it is amicable. I never got the chance though.”

“Oh?”

“My mum was never around. And Dad got sick. I never hated him, not really, so I don’t know how it would’ve turned out, but it didn’t matter. The care home he was put into, it burned down and killed everyone inside of it.” Melanie sighed. This wasn’t about her father. She’d moved past this. To push the thoughts of him out of her mind, she focused on the throbbing of her blood in her veins, and carried on. “I made up for it though. Proved myself in other ways.”

Maybe it was the way she said those words, maybe it was the spark she apparently got in her eye when the Slaughter rose up in her chest, or maybe it was Georgie’s politeness, but Georgie didn’t ask more. 

“I’m… sorry,” Melanie mumbled quietly. 

“Hm? No, don’t be sorry. Sometimes it’s just hard to wrap my head around all of this stuff. How much is us and how much is… something else?”

“Does it matter?”

Georgie paused and shrugged. “I don’t know.” She sighed, shook her head, and softened herself. “Anyway, it for sure doesn’t matter right this second. I’m glad we talked and kind of discussed where we’ve come from. This whole thing is weird-”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Melanie interjected, and they laughed.

“But the point is, I’m glad they matched me up with someone… I’m glad I got matched up with _you_.”

Melanie felt her face flush and she bit her lip. Georgie was so many things that she wasn’t; calm, contemplative, reserved, which is why they made a good match to combine their families. But sitting there with her, all of those expectations were forgotten as Melanie realized something. 

“The pipes are quieter now.”

Georgie mumbled questioningly. 

“The pipes. The song in my head, in my blood. Since I’ve been sitting here, talking with you… it’s quieter. It’s like, it’s not the most important thing anymore.”

Georgie giggled, and Melanie noted how a blush now crept into her cheeks too.

The wedding ceremony that had been organized for them had many differences from what a wedding would look like amongst much of the population, and one such difference is that there was no culminating kiss between the couple. But now, as they leaned in toward each other and their lips met, slowly, cautiously, tentatively, it didn’t have to be symbolic of their families or their gods; it was just the two of them, making sense of a strange situation, a bond against it all.


	2. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgie and Melanie's one year anniversary comes around, along with a special gift from their families, a gift that comes with unintended side effects.

Even though they were now married, nothing much changed as they went through their day-to-day lives. Georgie continued her podcast and Melanie stuck with Grifter’s Bone. They shared a house and a bed now, but their relationship never progressed past an amicable softness, with traces of romance here and there, such as a kiss on the cheek or the occasional cuddle on the couch. It was a unique form of domesticity. Melanie couldn’t help but notice how the sound of the pipes got quieter every time Georgie was around, though. 

Sharing a bed with a near-stranger had been awkward at first, as they got used to how they slept, snored, and awoke in the morning, but after a while it was no longer an issue. Their level of intimacy never increased and there was never any expectation of it, which greatly decreased the anxiety they each felt. 

Melanie did sometimes wish there was more than the sporadic kiss or embrace. She found herself watching Georgie, making conversation or attempting to drag one out, just to keep her around. But she’d never make her uncomfortable. The situation they found themselves in was strange enough already, so she kept her mouth shut. After the initial weirdness of an arranged marriage wore off, it was too late to announce her feelings, even though they grew stronger every day. 

She didn’t know if it was love. Love was a strange thing in and of itself, and she didn’t really want to take the time to examine those feelings. Every time she did, the pounding of her blood increased and she just got angry – not at Georgie, but at the twisting and turning of her stomach and the fluttering of her heart. 

Georgie never came to one of Melanie’s shows, at Melanie’s insistence. She wasn’t about to drive her wife to brutality with savage music, though she did occasionally practice the softer parts of the melodies while at home, and Georgie would come in and listen to her, watch her play the piano. All Melanie had in the house was a cheap electronic keyboard, but one day, Georgie surprised her with a more advanced, newer model, and the sound of pipes got quieter still. 

Meanwhile, Georgie claimed a room and soundproofed it as best she could so that she could continue making _What the Ghost?_ At her request, Melanie joined her on the occasional episode. Melanie was sure that her presence would only tank the show’s ratings – she was the strange, angry ghosthunting meme, after all – but those episodes seemed to do particularly well. Something about the chemistry between the two hosts that made it more entertaining to listen to. Melanie tried not to read too much into it, and preferred to help Georgie with her research, even if she wasn’t on the air. 

There were the other moments of casual domesticity as well. Like the time Georgie tried to make breakfast, started a fire, and then poured water on the burning grease. Or the time that Melanie _insisted_ she could lift the chair all by herself, and now there was a heavy indent in the wood floor from where she’d dropped it. Or the time they’d fallen asleep on the couch, laying side by side in the cramped space, and tumbled off in the middle of the night, smashing into the coffee table and splintering the wood. 

And every time they laughed as they surveyed the aftermath. They got angry, of course, they had their arguments, but at the end of the day, they always found a way to laugh through it. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it was something close to it. It was almost enough to make them forget about the origin of this arrangement and the families and gods dictating their moves.

Almost.

A year had passed before they realized it. There had been a few family occasions in the interim, which they’d had to attend together, but they weren’t significant affairs. The alliance between their Fears made by their marriage had little to do with them, once all was said and done, and was left to the elders of their families. 

However, as their anniversary came around, a gift was left on their doorstep in the middle of the night.

_A gift. Happy anniversary. May our families’ combined power never wane._

The note was strapped to a person with a bag over their head and restraints around their arms and legs that kept them prostrated at the doorstep. The similarity to the sacrifice they’d dispatched on their wedding night was uncanny.

Melanie dragged the person inside and unwrapped the tarp that surrounded them. A nice touch, really; wouldn’t want to get blood on the furniture or the rug. Georgie had been in the midst of a yawn, but her eyes opened wide as she saw them there. 

It was for their Gods, Melanie told herself. One life, one sacrifice, for their Fears and their Families, and surely it would only draw her and Georgie closer together as well. She reached for the ceremonial knives they’d been given on their wedding night, the ones they’d used for the first sacrifice they’d offed together. 

“No!” 

Melanie had Georgie’s blade in her hand, outstretched to hand to her wife, but she hesitated as Georgie cried out. Her hands were balled at her sides and her brow creased in fury.

“What?”

“I’m not doing this. Not anymore.”

Melanie tucked the knives back into their case. “What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ ,” Georgie said, barely able to open her eyes to meet Melanie’s confused gaze, “that I’m not going to kill them. I’m not going to kill anyone again. I’m not going to serve the End anymore, or any of these fears. They don’t _own_ me. I won’t help them hurt people anymore.”

Melanie had started to step toward her, but now froze in place again. It wasn’t a completely unforeseen possibility, truthfully. Georgie often waxed philosophical about the Entities and how they tied into their lives, how much choice any of them had in their actions and how important fear was in shaping who they were. Her podcast sometimes veered from the ghosts and the supernatural to the actual history of a place, an effort to ignore the influence of the End that she had spread. 

Whenever Georgie talked out her feelings, Melanie tried to follow along, to examine her own opinions on it all. Each time, though, the pipe music in her head and the sound of blood got too loud and the confusion only made her fill with rage and leave her more baffled than she was before. 

She didn’t think she ever had a choice. This was how she was raised. She’d been marked. This is who she _was_. 

But as Georgie stood there, firm in her decision, Melanie realized that maybe she _did_ have a choice after all.

Before she could say anything, Georgie continued. “I’ve thought about this a lot, but this… this is the last straw. I can’t be a part of this anymore.”

“I understand,” Melanie replied. She didn’t know if she felt the same, but that didn’t matter. She could respect Georgie’s decision all the same. 

“Don’t make me do this. Please.”

Melanie drew back. “No, no, I won’t. I won’t make you do it. I…”

It wasn’t fear in Georgie’s eyes, but a resignation and trepidation about what the future would hold. Her future with her God, her family, and her wife. And that look stung at Melanie more than any blade ever could. 

Melanie stepped forward and untied the binding of their sacrifice. She removed the bag covering their head, but didn’t touch the gag until she’d said her piece. 

“Listen to me: run. Get out of here, and don’t come back. Don’t call the cops. Just run. Keep running. The two of us, we’re not going to hurt you, but there are others who will. Alright?”

They nodded frantically, practically shaking with the terror that coursed through them. The pipes in Melanie’s head started playing louder and faster, but she pushed past them as she stepped to the door and let the scared individual flee, away into the darkness of the night.

As she shut and locked the door, she turned back to Georgie, whose resignation had turned to confusion. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Let them go. This is _my_ choice. I’m not trying to make it for you.”

Melanie hesitated as she searched for words and a way to articulate her feelings. 

“I… well, it’s too late now. And I think that’s okay. I don’t know. I just… you didn’t want it, and I didn’t… if I had killed them, I would have been forcing that choice on _you_.”

Georgie fidgeted with the hem of her nightshirt, glancing between Melanie, the door, and the tarp that still rested on the floor. 

“They’re going to know we didn’t kill them,” she said finally. “Our families. And they’re not going to be happy about it. We’ve… disobeyed them. And our Gods.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to leave. You can blame it on me, say I released the sacrifice, and then move on with your life.”

“You’re… leaving?”

“Not because of you.” She stepped toward Melanie and tugged her hands into her own, running her thumb along the scar in Melanie’s palm from where they’d mixed their blood on their wedding day. “I don’t want to leave _you_. I want to leave this… this expectation of spreading fear that I don’t feel, that isn’t fair to people just trying to _live_.”

“Then I’ll come with you.”

The concept came so quickly to Melanie, and the possible consequences that flew through her mind after she spoke were discarded instantly. 

“Melanie, no, I… Like I said, I don’t want to force any of this on you. If I’m leaving this life of terror, I’m not going to drag you with me.”

“Right.” Melanie gently let her hands fall free of Georgie’s grip. “I get it. That’s fine.”

So many words formed on Georgie’s lips before she finally spoke. “I don’t want to do this alone. I would give anything to have you at my side, but… you’re still serving the Slaughter, and I respect that. All this… it’s just not for me.”

“I don’t know how I feel about all this fear stuff,” Melanie admitted. “I never considered that there was any other option. And every time I think about it, the music in my skull plays louder and louder until I can’t think about anything anymore. But… when I think about you, when I’m around you… that makes the pipes quieter. And I want to be with you. Doesn’t matter where, or how. I can sort out my own relationship to my Entity elsewhere. If I decide I want to come back, then I’ll deal with that when I make that choice. But… you made me see that I can even _have_ a choice, so I’m going to choose you. If you’ll have me, I’m coming with you.”

After several long moments, Georgie finally nodded. “We should start packing, then. Before anyone comes checking on us.”

Without another word, the pair began to load up essentials; clothes, food, toiletries, anything they thought they would need for their life on the run. The car Melanie had brought to the marriage was chock full of their belongings, and Georgie sat in the passenger seat as Melanie brought the last bag from their house. As she passed the case containing the ceremonial knives from their wedding, she stopped.

Her eyes were drawn to the blades, the curve of the metal, her frazzled appearance in the reflection, the memories of her binding to Georgie. But as she glanced back at Georgie, waiting for her in the car, ready to begin a life on the run, a life that _they_ would create, she left the knives behind and shut the door on the chapter that had been written for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt weird writing these two as being completely loyal to their Fears, because so much of their characterization in the show is them breaking from them and refusing to take part in this world of terror. At first, I was just going to end this at the first chapter, but I decided I wanted to explore Melanie and Georgie attempting to free themselves from their Entities when they are very much entwined through family and blood. I hope that comes across, and I hope you still like it!


	3. New Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melanie and Georgie get settled, someone nice and unobtrusive, where they can attempt a life without Fear.

They drove for hours. For many of those hours, they didn’t speak. When they’d first been married, the silence had been formed in awkwardness, but now, this silence represented the fact that they had no idea what would come next. 

Eventually, they did talk about what might happen if their families caught them. Once you’d been accepted into the inner family, the worshippers, the devotees of Fear, you didn’t get to leave. You were part of something greater now, and it was your job to serve. 

But they’d rejected that. 

Surely their families would come after them to try and drag them back home and return them to their unwavering faith. And there would be consequences, of course. To kill one hostage as had been provided them for their anniversary would be _nothing_ in comparison to the things they would be forced to do in order to get back into the good graces of their Entity. If it wasn’t decided that they were too much effort, or that they’d be better off as a warning to others.

And that was just as an individual leaving the fold. Their marriage had solidified an alliance between the worshippers of two Fears, a proper allegiance tied in blood. For the two of them to abandon their duties was the greatest disrespect, and they would pay dearly if they were ever caught. 

It was hard to keep their minds off of this, to not imagine being dragged back, to hear the music louder than anything else again, never ceasing, but they did their best. They talked about anything and everything that didn’t have to do with their Patrons, but that was nearly impossible; their entire lives had been consumed by that worship and almost nothing existed without it being involved in some way. Eventually, Georgie turned on the radio and cranked it up so loud that they couldn’t talk or think or worry anymore. Their pursuers would come. But for now, they would sing along to the music, voices cracking as they grew hoarse, dance in their seats, and savor each other’s presence and the simplicity of their current actions. 

They spent a few days in motels as they continued to drive north, but they didn’t want to spend too much money right off the bat. They’d need a place to live, somewhere in a place less busy than London and its outskirts, but not too quiet where newcomers would stand out. And they were both, effectively, unemployed. Melanie couldn’t return to her ghosthunting show, and she didn’t know if she would even be able to play something less murderous than her tunes with Grifter’s Bone. Georgie still had _What the Ghost?_ but they agreed to stay off the air, at least until they were far enough away and could hide themselves, in case their families were able to find her through the podcast somehow. And Georgie didn’t know if she’d even want to go back to it at all, given the way she’d used it to serve the End, an action she refused to do anymore. All they had were their savings and a car full of their belongings. 

They looked for a new flat along the coast, somewhere that didn’t ask too many questions and with rent that was cheap enough so that they could survive until they could find new jobs, jobs that didn’t rely on their faith-given skillsets. And in the meantime, they slept in their car, tucked away in some quiet car park. They pushed all of their items into the trunk or the front seat for the nights, save for the bags they used to fill out the space on the backseat and make it as flat and comfortable as possible. While there had often been some trepidation about sharing a bed, now that they had only the backseat, they didn’t have space to be nervous. They curled up together, holding on tight, to ward off the cold nights and everything that was chasing them. 

Eventually, while stumbling down the street to stretch their legs, they found just the place. The complex was sketchy to say the least, but that didn’t worry them, not compared to the things coming after them or the sins they, themselves, had already committed. The landlord didn’t ask questions and they were able to move in the next day after finding some cheap furniture at a charity shop. It was a small flat, with barely enough space for the two of them to move around, but it would do. They could exist in anonymity until they came up with a better plan. 

Georgie managed to find a job relatively quickly, working as a receptionist at a local clinic. Though her time at university had been rocky at best, she had taken some medical classes and they were enough to get her the position. Melanie, on the other hand, couldn’t manage it. The pounding of the pipes in her head got too loud the longer she was cooped up. She tried a few jobs here and there, retail, food service, anything that didn’t require specialized skills or a thorough background check, but barely lasted a day or two in the stagnation. It drove her mad. 

She spent most of her time wandering the streets, hoping that some form of inspiration would strike. There were too many fears and worries roaming her head, but the pipe music attempted to drown them all out and filled her with pain and fury when she tried to push past it. 

It felt strange to not listen to the pipes, to not allow them to consume her every waking moment. But it also felt… peaceful, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time. And when she was around Georgie, and the pipes got quieter, it became clear one evening that that was the life she wanted to choose.

“I’m going to give up the Slaughter,” she said quietly as they made dinner.

“Are you sure?”

Melanie could barely hear her over the blaring of the pipes inside her skull, physically rattling around and trying to beat her back into submission. 

“I am. I don’t… I don’t like it, now that I can choose not to. I mean, I _do_ still like it, but I don’t _want_ to. I don’t want to be controlled by it anymore.”

She’d been haphazardly stirring their meal on the stove, and jumped in shock as Georgie wrapped her arms around her and held her tight. In an instant, the pipes went silent, and Melanie was sure of her decision. 

“I’m proud of you,” Georgie whispered. “We’re going to make this work, yeah?”

“I don’t know if I know where to start.”

“You already have. And I’m going to be there with you, every step of the way. Don’t forget that.”

Melanie set down her spoon and turned so that she could bury herself in Georgie and cry on her shoulder, sobbing and releasing so much pent up frustration she didn’t even know she had. Georgie held her as she cried, ignoring how their dinner scorched on the stove, and made comforting promises in her ear. It would be tough, but, as Melanie clung tightly to her wife, she knew that it would be okay, one way or another.

*

It was still impossible for Melanie to find and keep a job, as it took all of her willpower to hold off the blaring sound of pipes in her ears. But now, as she wandered the streets, the cacophony didn’t consume her. She was able to see the way people wove through the city, played with their children and pets in the park, and laughed and chatted. Fear still ran rampant, of course. But Melanie could see the life behind it all, and she knew she’d made the right choice. 

Though, none of them really knew how much choice they had. The Web had its fingers – legs? – in everything and free will was a question that Melanie didn’t want to deal with at that point, if ever. But, as long as she felt that she could choose, living without the Slaughter was a choice she was happy to make. For the first time in ages, since she was a child, laughing with her father, she felt _alive_. 

And if it weren’t for Georgie, she never would have realized any of this was an option. She would have continued to create butchery for the sake of butchery, feeding into powers that used and misused their worshippers like pawns. She still heard the music in her dreams, swaying her every which way and threatening to send her spiraling back to her Entity, but if she awoke and saw Georgie lying beside her, it seemed easier to go back to sleep and dream of something else than the red of blood and the glint of a blade.

It had been a few months, and there was no sign of anyone coming after them. They weren’t about to head back to London or announce their location; there was no way their families would give up the chase so easily. But the tension that came from always looking over one’s shoulder slowly started to melt away, and Melanie and Georgie began to go out more often. While they’d originally hidden almost constantly, tucked away in their tiny apartment, now they’d occasionally head out for dinner or a movie or just a walk in the park where nothing else mattered but them. 

During the day, Melanie eventually found herself window shopping as she wandered the streets in addition to savoring the unhindered life existing around her. At first, she’d focused on nothing but the sidewalk in front of her and the pounding of her feet on the pavement, a beat in contrast to that in her head. But now, other little bits and pieces started to fall into place.

And as she noticed the pair of intricate rings sat in the window of an antique shop, another piece fell into place. 

Maybe every decision they made was controlled by some puppet-master which fed on their consternation, but it didn’t matter. Melanie knew she had a choice now, and she would choose Georgie.


	4. Two Steps Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melanie has a question to ask, but an intruder threatens the peace Georgie and Melanie have created.

The rings were safely tucked in Melanie’s pocket as she and Georgie meandered through the local park just before midnight. It was a dingy park that had more trash in it than green space, but it was a refreshing dose of nearly fresh air that they both needed after days of work and recovery. Their hands brushed together as they talked and laughed about the little things, like the dog Melanie had seen earlier in the day that missed the frisbee thrown to him and ran into a car door or the client Georgie helped at the clinic who practically climbed over the counter because they refused to wait in line for thirty seconds. Things that were so trite that they’d never have given them a second thought before their escape, but now they were everything. 

“Georgie, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Melanie stopped in place, and Georgie turned to face her, her eyes still shining. 

“Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s about… us. This whole marriage thing we got roped into.”

“Oh?” There was the vaguest sound of disappointment in her voice. 

“No, that came out wrong,” Melanie insisted. “I don’t mean, I’m… um…” Though she’d had a whole speech prepared, she immediately forgot all of it along with most of the rest of the English language. 

As she stuttered to right herself, to stop sounding like a babbling fool, the anxiety in her head faded and was replaced by the pipes she’d fought so hard to silence. Out of the corner of her eye, just past Georgie, she spotted someone marching toward them, the faintest glint of something in their hand. 

Melanie had been reaching for the rings in her pocket, hoping that their presence would serve as an explanation when her words failed her, but now she reached to the knife she still wore on her hip. 

“Georgie, stay back.” 

Pushing past her, Melanie charged at the man approaching them, the glimmer of his weapon shining brighter as he neared them. She dove at him and knocked him to the ground with a hefty thud, one hand balling up the front of his shirt to hold him in place while the other held her knife to his throat. 

“What are you doing here?” She screamed. “Leave us alone!”

“I don’t know you, lady! Please, let me go!” He slurred.

Melanie didn’t buy it. She lifted his chest and slammed him into the brick path, hard. “How did you find us? Do others know where we are? Answer me!”

“Melanie…”

She turned her head toward Georgie, who slowly approached the scene with her hands outstretched to gently reach toward Melanie. 

“It’s okay. He’s… he’s not one of them. He’s just a guy.”

“Then why was he coming for us? Why does he have a knife?”

“Why do _you_ have a knife?” The man asked, then yelped as Melanie pushed its point a little harder into his skin.

“You’re not in a place to be asking questions,” she snapped.

“Melanie! Let him go!” Georgie cried. “Don’t… don’t give into it.”

In that instant, Melanie realized that jabbing the knife into his throat had broken the skin and a trickle of blood was emerging from the wound. She pulled her knife and herself away and stood, backing away from her victim. At his side, thrown asunder when he was tackled, was a shattered glass bottle of alcohol, which produced similar sparkling reflections under the streetlight as she’d noticed when he came toward the pair. 

_Don’t let him get away. Hurt him. Make him pay._

The knife was still clutched firmly in Melanie’s hand as she watched Georgie help the drunken man to his feet and usher him on his way. It shook and drove her craving for blood.

“Shut up!” She screamed into the night air. The man hobbled faster in his escape, and Georgie stepped to Melanie’s side.

_The blood… you miss it… remember the song…_

“No!” Melanie haphazardly threw her knife as far away as she could and balled her hands up tight at her side, only able to open her eyes when she felt Georgie’s hand taking her own. 

“It’s okay… it’s alright…”

“No, it’s not,” Melanie snapped, and wrenched herself away from Georgie’s gentle grasp. “I almost killed him. I would have, if you hadn’t stopped me. And I would’ve _liked_ it. I still hear it, I still _want_ to hurt people.”

“But you’re not. You’re fighting it. That’s what matters.”

“Is it?” Melanie let out a shuddering sigh as she tried to blink away the tears, but they were coming too fast to thwart them. “How do you do it? How do you keep the voices quiet?”

“I don’t,” Georgie admitted, taking a few slow steps toward Melanie as she spoke. “I still hear the funeral dirge at the edge of everything I hear. I feel it. But I know it doesn’t control me. I have more important things to do than give into a cruel master.”

“You make it look so easy.”

Georgie chuckled and reached out for Melanie’s hand again. Melanie didn’t withdraw this time, and allowed Georgie to run her thumb along her skin in soothing circles, then to raise Melanie’s hand to her lips and press a firm kiss to her knuckles.

“It’s not easy. It’s _so_ hard. Every day is a fight. But I have better things. My job, the people I work with, the research I do if I ever get to make _What the Ghost?_ again. And _you_. It all makes the fight all the more worthwhile. It’s never easy.” Georgie released her grip on one of Melanie’s hands to wipe the tears from her wife’s face and caress her cheek as she continued, “We’re probably going to be fighting for the rest of our lives. I don’t know if we’ll ever be truly free. So, there’s nothing wrong with slipping up. That’s why we have each other, right? When one of us falters, the other one is there to remind us that we’re better off without all the fear and the hate and the violence, and we’re better off _with_ each other, yeah?”

“You really still want me around, after all that? After everything?” Melanie could scarcely believe it. All her hard work… for nothing. To assault a random stranger on the street and want to mutilate him for existing. 

“Of course, Melanie. Like I said, a slip-up is nothing. It happens. We move on stronger from it. And I know you’ll be there for me when my song gets too loud.”

Melanie could barely speak, her chest heaved with despair and fear regarding the monster she’d almost allowed herself to become again. “Thank you,” she croaked out. “It’s easier… knowing that you’re doing this with me.”

“We’re doing this together,” Georgie insisted, with a soft smile on her lips. “We have to keep fighting.” After a pause, during which Melanie wiped away the rest of her tears and composed herself, Georgie questioned, “You said there was something you wanted to talk about; do you still want to talk about that now?”

Despite Georgie’s reassuring words and the feeling of her lips still lingering on Melanie’s hand, Melanie had never felt like more of a failure than in that moment. Georgie was with her for the time being, sure, but there was no way she’d want some reminder of this fear-filled world with her all the time, and she’d realize that life was better without Melanie, without worrying when she would lose it and attack someone, when she would give in to the savagery. 

Melanie kept the rings tucked in her pocket, ignoring the way they seemed to weigh her down.

“No. Let’s just… let’s just go home.”


	5. For Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their families refuse to let them go without a fight, and the Hunt is on.

Melanie dragged herself through the streets, Georgie at her side and casting worried glances in her direction, as they headed back to the small flat that they shared. It was all Melanie could do to keep her mind off of her failure, off of the smell of the stranger’s blood that lingered on her fingertips…

Before she could head down the spiral of self-hatred again, she felt Georgie’s hand on her own, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently. It didn’t make the pain go away, but it kept her from getting worse, and it made the lingering pipes become muted in the distance of her mind.

They climbed up the steps to their flat and opened the door, tossing their jackets to the side haphazardly. Melanie stepped into the kitchen to get a drink – water, since Georgie had suggested that alcohol let down their inhibitions and made it easier for the Fears and their songs to get back in their heads – while Georgie headed straight into the living room.

Melanie was mid-pour when she heard Georgie speak.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“Georgie?” Melanie called, setting down the pitcher and reaching for a paring knife on the counter. She didn’t want to give into it, but if someone was in their apartment…

Knife in hand, Melanie rounded the corner, ready to strike but holding back from leaping directly to violence.

“Ah, the Slaughter one is here too. How convenient.”

“Who _are_ you?” Melanie growled.

“Oh, I was hired by your families to track you down and bring you two back home. All this jaunting around, I’m sure it’s been fun, but it’s time to get back to work.”

“Well,” Georgie snapped, “I’m sure it’ll be no trouble to send a message back to our families then. To tell them that we’re very happy and would appreciate it if they wouldn’t bother us again.”

The individual let out a questioning murmur. They were tall and lanky, but clearly quite muscular, even under the thick, dark jacket they wore to ward off the coming winter. Their hands were still in their pockets, which made Melanie tighten her grip on the knife. 

She didn’t recognize them, and it sounded like Georgie didn’t either, which meant they weren’t part of their families. 

The stranger spoke again. “Hm, that _is_ a shame. However, I was told to bring you back whether or not you were willing.”

“Just leave,” Melanie commanded. If she had to spill blood… she didn’t know if she could control it again.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

In a flash, they reached out a clawed hand from their coat and grabbed Georgie, who was nearest, and held her tightly. Their claws sunk into her arm and she yelped out with pain and surprise. 

Maybe she wouldn’t be able to control it. But they would _not_ have Georgie.

Melanie lunged forward and stabbed the paring knife at her foe, who swiped her away with the smallest scratch on the form that shifted and changed before their eyes. With a growl and an animalistic glint in their eye, their body morphed into that of a vicious, gigantic predator, with snapping teeth and even longer, sharper claws that dug further into Georgie’s skin.

“Let her go!” Melanie cried as she righted herself. “I’ll go willingly. Just leave Georgie alone.”

“Melanie!” Georgie yelled.

The Hunt’s Avatar laughed. “How sweet. But you two are a package deal, after all. Now come along, or I’ll be forced to hurt her.”

Melanie glanced between the claws sinking into Georgie’s arm, how she struggled against their grip, and the knife Melanie still held in her hand. This time, when she lunged at the stranger, blade extended and ready for flesh, the rage in her heart was her own; it didn’t belong to a God or to Fear, only to her, and she would use it to make sure Georgie was free.

They attempted to bat her away again, but Melanie ducked and dodged and managed to slam the blade into their shoulder, twisting it for extra measure. Even though it was a relatively short knife used on a particularly large creature, the beast let out a howl and they tossed Georgie to the side, slamming her into the wall with a terrifying thud, so that they could focus their entire attention on their attacker. Melanie tried to yank her weapon free before the Avatar swung at her again with the full force of its claws. 

They raked down her side, and she wheeled backwards in pain. 

“They didn’t say what state you had to be in,” the beast growled. “Just alive. Maybe you’ll be breathing through a tube when I’m done with you.” They yanked the paring knife from their shoulder with their free hand and tossed it aside as they closed the distance between themselves and Melanie. 

She continued to back into the kitchen, fumbling behind her for the knife block or anything else she could use as a weapon. The pitcher she threw thudded off the monster ineffectually and shattered on the ground, but she couldn’t find anything else in time. The knife clasp on her belt was still empty after the attack in the park. 

Eventually, she found the knife block and grabbed out the largest utensil they had, brandishing it before her and holding her ground. The Avatar paused and gauged her, then charged.

She dodged to the side, but the sheer bulk of the animal slammed into her and tossed her to the floor. Not before she slammed the butcher’s knife into their back, though. They let out a great howl of agony while Melanie attempted to crawl away. Their claws ripped into her leg and dragged her closer until she used her free foot to kick at the monster’s face and pry herself free. 

Melanie continued to crawl away from the beast, now weaponless, and the stranger just kept coming with slow steps and a predatorial smirk on lips that were not meant to smile. She thudded into the back counter; there was nowhere left to go. 

With a chuckle, they righted themselves and shifted slightly to relieve stress on their two injuries. They rose up, tall and all-encompassing, before they struck.

A clawed hand struck Melanie’s head hard, slamming her into the cabinets with a splitting pain in both the front and back of her skull. One eye went black while the other got blurry. She couldn’t move even as her mind begged her to stand up, to run or fight, to protect Georgie, but her limbs stayed put as her vision continued to sway through one eye. 

The Avatar laughed and Georgie screamed.

The next thing Melanie knew, Georgie stood between her and the beast, except they weren’t a beast anymore. Georgie’s hand was around the human’s neck, black tendrils creeping from her fingers where they sunk into their skin and spread like sickened veins along their throat. The animalistic shine in their eyes was gone, replaced by a familiar feeling: fear.

“The moment that you die will feel exactly like this one,” Georgie said in a voice that was barely her own, fury writhing beneath the surface. “When that moment comes, that is up to you. Tell our families that we’re not coming back. We will not be so kind the next time you show up.”

The Avatar nodded frantically, and Georgie released her grip on them. They scampered away, out the door and down the stairs, leaving a trail of dripping blood in their path. 

Before Melanie lost consciousness, she saw Georgie kneeling down beside her, felt her hands holding her tight, and heard her voice, begging her to hold on.


	6. A New Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awaking in the hospital, another choice awaits.

When Melanie awoke, she bolted straight up in a bed that wasn’t hers. The room around her was unrecognizable at first, but, she realized, that was mostly because she could only see out of one eye. 

She was in a hospital, complete with stark walls and beeping machinery, an IV pumping into her arm. Her side was bandaged, and her face as well, she found by feeling around. 

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re alright.”

Melanie whipped around, causing her head to spin. There was Georgie, stood from a chair that she’d dragged right up to Melanie’s bedside. With a shaky hand, Melanie reached out for her, and Georgie immediately gripped her hand and held it tight, pressing a few soft kisses to her bruised knuckles. A tight wad of bandage was wrapped around Georgie’s upper arm as well.

“What happened? Where are we?”

“The local hospital.”

“We can’t be here. We have to keep moving. They know where we are, we have to find a new place, we have to-”

“Melanie, please.” Georgie used her free hand to brush Melanie’s stray hair out of her face, her fingers brushing the edge of the bandage. “You were… you were really hurt. If you hadn’t gotten here when you did, I don’t know if you… I’m not going to have you die. Especially not now. We can keep running when you’re better. But first, you need to be alive. A semester of basic pre-med classes didn’t teach me enough to patch you up from something this bad, oddly enough.” She gave Melanie’s hand a soft squeeze to go along with her joke. 

“Okay,” Melanie breathed. “I just… I don’t want them to get to you.”

Tears glistened in Georgie’s eyes as she smiled softly. Maybe it was the painkillers pumping into her, or maybe it was the way Georgie gazed down at her, but Melanie didn’t hurt anymore.

“They’re not going to get us.”

Melanie squeezed Georgie’s hand back, then asked, changing the subject, “Are you alright? Your arm…”

Georgie shrugged. “It’ll be fine. I mean, I’m not supposed to use it for a long while, but all things considered, it’s not too bad, especially compared to you.”

“How bad is it? What happened to me?”

“Uh, pretty bad. I told them it was a stray dog that attacked us. Not sure if they bought it, but it did the trick. There was a lot of internal bleeding and a lot of damage. You were in surgery for hours. And your eye… they don’t know if you’re ever going to be able to see out of it again. The scars will be pretty bad too.”

“Well, chicks dig scars, right?” Melanie teased, and Georgie laughed. 

“And pirates, which is good, because you’re probably going to get a wicked eyepatch.”

“Yes,” Melanie said, pumping her fist into the air with excitement while Georgie continued to giggle.

“Even though our marriage wasn’t the most traditional thing, at least all the legal paperwork was done, so they can’t kick me out of your room,” Georgie added after their laughter subsided.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

After a brief pause, Melanie sat upright again. 

“What is it? Are you alright?” Georgie asked frantically.

“My clothes! Do you know where my clothes are?”

Georgie released her grip on Melanie’s hand while she moved over to the closet to retrieve Melanie’s effects, then presented her with the bag containing her clothing. 

“What’s going on?”

“Please tell me they’re still here…” Melanie rummaged through the bag and into the pocket on her jeans. “Aha!”

Once she had the rings in her hand, she relaxed, leaned back in bed, and turned toward Georgie.

“I wanted to talk to you about this in the park that night, but then… I think it’s safe to say that things went wrong. And then I thought I wasn’t good enough. And then we got attacked by a member of the Hunt and sent us here. You’d be surprised how nearly dying and losing an eye somehow changes your perspective on things,” she chuckled under her breath, then continued. “Listen, I know that us being together was originally decided by our families and we didn’t have a say in it, but now? Now it doesn’t matter what they want, only what _we_ want. And…” She presented the two silver rings to Georgie. “I want to be with you. I want to choose you every time. I love you, Georgie. You’ve given me a chance at a life I never even considered was possible. Like, I know we’re already technically married, but, will you…?”

“Yes,” Georgie whispered, then exclaimed, “Yes! Yes, of course!” She leaned in toward Melanie and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, careful to keep from causing any extra pain in the lacerations on her face. “I love you, too,” she said, their lips brushing together as she spoke. “And not just because I have to. I love you so much. I have for ages, I just didn’t know how to say it, or if you felt the same way.”

Melanie giggled with glee, then reached out for Georgie’s hand and slipped a ring on her fourth finger, and allowed Georgie to reciprocate the gesture a moment later. The rings were plain, but they were _theirs_. After sitting up in bed a little bit taller, Melanie tugged Georgie in for another kiss, this time unafraid of pain, because she knew that there would be none so long as Georgie was there. 

They’d kissed before, on their wedding night, but it was an expectation and a giddy instinct. This kiss, though… after months of living together and fighting for each other, this kiss and every kiss that came after belonged only to them.

Doctors eventually interrupted them and performed their checks, but Melanie barely heard them. The pipes were silent, and her mind was instead filled with thoughts of the life she was yet to share with Georgie. They would likely always be running from their families and their Entities, but if they fought it off together, the darkness didn’t stand a chance.

After the doctors exited and Georgie and Melanie were left alone once more, Georgie scooted her chair back over and took Melanie’s hand again. Exhaustion was starting to win out, and Melanie’s good eye began to flitter, but she didn’t let go of her wife. 

“Get some sleep,” Georgie cooed. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Just… when we get settled, what do you think about adopting a cat? Something to think about…”

Melanie chuckled and drifted off to sleep, a smile on her lips as the dream of a life where she and Georgie would choose each other, over and over again, became a reality. 


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months after the Hunt attacked, Georgie and Melanie have settled into a new life together, one where they are free to exist as they choose.

It had been eight and a half months since the attack on Georgie and Melanie’s flat on the coast in England. Once the doctors cleared them both – which took _quite_ a while, given the extensiveness of Melanie’s injuries – they followed through with the plan they’d made while bedridden. 

They both spoke a smattering of French, so it made sense to head somewhere in France, where it might be harder for their English families to come after them or to track them down, though they doubted the Hunt would have too much trouble if they were called in again. No one had come for them while they were in hospital, so they considered the possibility that they were finally going to be left alone. 

But they doubted it.

After a while, though, it didn’t matter so much. Shortly after getting settled, Georgie got herself a job with a local group performing scientific study on supernatural activity in cooperation with other organizations across Europe. She still didn’t feel safe picking up _What the Ghost?_ on the off chance she accidentally gave away their location or they could somehow be tracked through it, but this way she could keep doing the research she enjoyed while maintaining a lower profile. 

Melanie’s injuries kept her housebound for quite a while, even if it made her a little bit stir-crazy. When her French skills picked up and her body had recovered, Georgie put in a good word for her and they wound up working side by side, investigating ghosts and other spooky entities that inhabited their world. Back when they’d each had their own, individual ghosthunting shows, they’d briefly discussed a crossover where they would host an episode together. But this? This was so much better. 

Soon enough, it was their two-year anniversary. Two years since they’d been expected to marry, two years since they’d been thrown together for the sake of Fear, two years since they’d fallen for each other. 

Melanie had a nice dinner all planned out back at their flat, but first, they had something else to do. 

They headed to the local animal shelter where Georgie bounced with excitement as the staff brought out the cat they’d chosen over a dozen visits and hours of paperwork. Or, maybe the cat had chosen them. Perhaps it was both. 

He was orange with thick hair and a meow and purr that softened even the hardest of hearts. The thing that made him unadoptable to others was what immediately drew Melanie and Georgie to him: he only had one eye. 

“I want to call him The Admiral,” Georgie murmured as she held him in her lap, back in their apartment. Melanie wasn’t sure which one of them purred louder. 

“The Admiral? Really?”

“Look at him! He’s a sea captain.”

“Only if I get to make him a matching eyepatch,” Melanie laughed, tapping her own patch as she spoke. 

“We’ll have to ask him. Hey, Admiral?” Georgie leaned down and practically smooshed her face into his fur. “Would you like an eyepatch? Maybe a stylish naval hat?”

“Mrrrrrr,” he purred, and his humans nodded. 

“Sounds like a yes to me,” Melanie said. “I’ll have to get started on that.”

“Later,” Georgie replied. “For now, I want to just stay like this.”

Melanie wrapped her arm around Georgie, and she leaned into her, letting out a contented sigh. 

“This is perfect.”

“Don’t you mean _purr_ fect?”

Georgie laughed. “I suppose so. Happy anniversary, love.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this tale!!! Thank you for such incredible prompts, and happy holidays!!!! <3


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